Electric Mountain: April 12, 2013

Social media told me that the Headwall would open for the first time of the season. Work just didn't seem that important, so I grabbed a voucher and headed South.  I had planned on heading North and skiing solo, but recent incidents in Alaska and Utah had me on edge. Some steep resort skiing would be perfect.

Eight years working at a ski hill has prepared me for the powder panic.  I know the drill: line up early, size up your competition, go like hell to your chosen line.  It was a cold, brilliant morning.  It takes 2 lift rides to access the Headwall.  On lift ride #2, our quartet of strangers blocked the sun from our eyes, trying to pick our lines.  From Chair 6, there is a long traverse to a steep booter.  The traverse is flat: no gravity assist, no sidestepping - just double pole planting and shuffling.

The Booter

Patrol got a early morning bump to the ridge to stage rescue supplies and set up some shelter, but by the time public arrived there were 5 or so ascending the booter.  At the transition area, a patroller was checking beacons.  I was second and the first wave was moving fast. About 3/4 of the way, the 1st pre-public skier dropped in.  It was going to be sweet.  Stoke was rising.  Most of the Headwall was bombed out with debris crossing the traverse except for one spot that I am sure we were all eyeing.  It was just climbers' left of the booter.  

The 1st paying customer gained the ridge and 30 seconds later a patroller dropped into that powder we all wanted.  It looked awesome!  Snow was hitting him solid in the thigh and was billowing across his chest. Then after a deep turn 30' to my left, the slope shattered about 40' above him.  

Fuck.

It broke about 2' deep and he was caught and accelerating rapidly. He went over a steep roll over and was gone into the powder cloud.

"Avalanche!  Avalanche!"

I ran the last 30 steps to the ridge to get my skis on and start a search.  There was a patroller stationed at the top of booter unaware what was unfolding below him.  After a few tense minutes the radio let us know the victim was on top on no one else was caught in the slide. 

 

Fracture

 





The slide ran the full length of the booter and then some.  Revisiting the photo above, you can clearly see the fracture line and the debris going past the traverse into the booter.  It was amazing no one was caught in the traverse / booter transition area.  For the rest of the day I never saw less than 5 people in this area where a slide ripped through just hours before. 

After about a 45 minute hold on the ridge, we were given the green light.  The death in Utah the day before was fresh in my mind and my confidence in Alyeska was shaken.  I opted to ski a line that was completely bombed out. Still I was nervous and had another hiker get "eyes on" for the descent.

The snow was not that good (maybe an old melt/freeze layer) but the reverse camber skis make quick work and I was quickly down the steep pitch and onto familiar terrain. 

I managed 2 more Headwall laps that day.  It was getting tracked out, so with more data points I elected to ski some of the softer options.  The sun lit up the Headwall in the early afternoon, but the booter stayed in the shade.  It's a great hike with amazing views.  Unfortunately, this area is rarely open: just 1 day this season. 

When it opens again next year, I'll call in sick and make the drive again.  But if I'm in that first wave, this time I'll be with a trusted partner with the necessary rescue gear.

 - U.K.

North Bowl: April 9, 2013

Snickers, the porcupine, did not see his shadow thereby dooming us to an early Spring. Well, that prickly bastard could not have been more wrong. Even the State of Alaska has recognized Winter's unusually aggressive push into Spring by extending the date for removing studded tires. 

The weather guessers predicted a huge Saturday though Tuesday snow event. The hype was on, but early storm totals fell short of predictions. A revised guess called for lower totals, but by Tuesday morning the truth exposed: Snickers and the weather guessers have similar accuracy. 

But a ray a hope: even though town was spared the fury of the storm, the mountains got pummeled - far exceeding even the most optimistic guesses.

Gee, I wonder where to go....

Field reports had confirmed the impressive totals and as the sun busted through the clouds on Tuesday afternoon, our destination was set. Hiland is a narrow winding road which makes getting stuck behind a school bus all that more frustrating. There are 2 buses: the 3:15 and the 3:45.  We've got the timing down so we usually hit the window between buses and drive like Bo or Luke Duke right to the trail head. Tuesday we were 5 minutes late and got caught behind the 3:45 bus at the bottom of the road. Shit! Lucky for us, the bus driver pulled over and waved us on. We cranked the Waylon Jennings and accelerated up the snow covered road.

Apparently, we weren't the only ones with powder fever and a rudimentary grasp of how to use the intertubes. Eight climbers were ascending towards the ridge and there were scores of tracks on the North facing slopes above us. Typically, this valley gets wind blasted during storms leaving many of the faces scoured down to tundra. This last storm didn't have the wind and the normally barren faces were tracked out with some deep looking turns. At least the uptrack was in.

The temperature in the parking lot was pleasant and the last of the clouds seemed to be breaking up. It looked like we were in for a nice evening of skiing so I left my long-johns and puffy in the Taco. After about 20 minutes clouds obscurred the sun and a chilly wind kicked up. I donned what little extra gear that was in my pack. Once on the ridge the wind really picked up making the single digit temperatures feel even colder. The wind was ripping, rapidly filling in the skin track and exposing wind board on some sections of the ridge. The blowing snow sand blasted my face and was rapidly sucking warmth from my body. For the second time this month, I coveted the Noodler's skirt. Getting desperate, I improvised a merkin with the bags for my goggles and climbing skins.  Ahh, much better!

It seems as though Snickers and I have similar weather guessing skills.

Fortunately, it was just a short squall. By the time we topped out on the 114th tallest peak in the Chugach State Park, visibility had improved and the winds had laid down.

Despite dozens of tracks visible from the trailhead, there were only 3 in North Bowl. The sun made a brief reemergence so the Noodler dropped in disappearing in a cloud of cold smoke. He quickly settled into his metronome style and attemped to make infinity turns. I wanted to ski more aggressive, but the angle was too low and the snow too deep.  I resigned myself to the tick-tick-tick of the metronome and enjoyed the ride.

A second lap was definitely in order. 


The Ridge Back to the Top

Along the way we met up with a couple of buddies and continued as a team of four. The squall from the first lap was long gone. Our persistance was rewarded with good visibility and light winds, but it still was cold.  We breifly considered another aspect, but elected to stack our tracks from earlier. On both runs, the first two turns were a bit funky, but it quickly changed to the deep fluff. 


The Noodler Stacking

Powder conservation techniques allowed everyone to get a fresh line for the entire descent. Smiles abound! Hoots and holler! It was my deepest Alaska day of the year. We wanted more but domestic obligations called us back to reality. 

Late spring dumps are precious because the promise of powder is fleeting. We may get another storm, we may not. This could well have been the last face shots of the season. I hope there's another monster low out there churning over the Pacific with Anchorage in her sites, but who knows?  Your guess is as good as mine.

 - U.K.

The Out of Service Couloir: April 2, 2012

The Out of Service Couloir goes by many different names mostly to keep people confused as to its true location. It's not really a secret, but invites to the uninitiated are rare. Fortunately, my friends are not very good at keeping secrets. This after work special is close to town and is the perfect option during breakup.

Breakup is the time between winter and tourist season.  Most people write it off, but breakup can deliver the best corn skiing of the year. Daytime highs climb into the 40s and nights drop into the 20s. It is generally the first consistent above freezing temperatures of the year, so the snow that has been piling up around town pools in the day and freezes at night. A slushy, dirty, splash fest in the afternoon, and gnarled frozen mess in the morning. The banks shrink and the standing water drains. First the highways dry out, then the main roads, the side streets, and last the alleys. The process takes about 2 weeks.

But back to the skiing...

This year the snowfall around Anchorage has been above average, but along the Seward Highway between Anchorage and Girdwood snow is well below average. There was never more than a 6" base on this stretch all winter. Every time I drove by the Out of Service, my neck craned trying to determine if there was enough snow to ski it. The top top half would be well filled in, but the bottom half kept me wondering.

It must have kept most of the skiing community wondering because info on the Out of Service was non-existent in our circle. So with a great deal of skepticism, the Noodler and I decided to give it a go.

The bottom 200 vert was mostly frozen creek ice with 2" of rapidly melting slush on top. Footing was tenuous at best and downright scary at worst. We scrambled through open water, ice, slush, rocks, and overgrowth until it began to open up.  At about 400' we were free from the encroaching vegetation and began to boot in earnest. 

The first section of the couloir is in the low 30s and the route is obvious, but that changes at the half way point. At about 1,750' it appears that you are almost at the top.  The shot gets wider and the angle eases.  This is where you take the improbable left. It doesn't look very promising, but if you climb a narrow steep spit of snow you are quickly rewarded with a skier's dream. 

You are suddenly in the high alpine with no vegetation and the Turnagain Arm is in your lap.  The angle increases into the high 30s with steep, jagged, grey-orange walls devoid of vegetation. No more shadows, no more gully, no more wondering why you brought a helmet and whippet.  Or in my case: wondering why you left your helmet and whippet at home.

Booting Above the Crux

The upper couloir has a few false forks, but with some good guessing and some experience, ski time comes at 3,400'. 


Getting Ready to Drop In

On the way up it was obvious that snow conditions were prime. The upper section is in fat and the breakup freeze thaw cycle had worked its magic. We had timed it perfectly!  There was 1-2" of cooked down powder on its way to corn on top of supportable. The turning was sublime. No one skied the upper half since the last snow over a week age, so it was super smooth and bright white. The ideal snow conditions allowed me to take in the incredible view of the cold grey Pacific that was rapidly rushing towards me.

No words, they should have sent a poet.



The Noodler in the Upper Half

Every other time that I've skied the Out of Service Couloir, there has a lump in my throat above the crux. It is often too narrow to side slip. Other times it is 18" of rotten snow on straight rock. Sometimes both. But today there was no lump in the throat - we knew it was wide so we opted to ski it "family style."  

The bottom half has much less snow than 2011 and 2012. There were a few narrow spots, but the low angle allowed the stress-free descent to continue. Eventually the snow gave way to creek ice, water, rocks, and brush. Today the real crux was the last 300'. Our styles are firmly routed in East coast stubbornness which dictate you ski if there is white, no matter how ridiculous. We work our way lower and lower hanging onto to alders and side stepping over rocks and through the open creek. Eventually common sense trumped our heritage and the skis came off.  It wasn't over yet; there were still some harrowing steps, moments of self doubt, slips and saves, and the ever popular alder face whip.  But not even the stinging lashes could not wipe the smirks off our faces as we stumbled out of the brush and onto the rumble strip.

We were psyched to catch the Out of Service in first-rate conditions. Exhaustion and other commitments have prevented a return as of yet. Maybe we'll get it again, maybe not, but knowing that we nailed it will make that bitter pill called Summer easier to swallow.

 - U.K.

Mission Mts.- Mt St.Mary and Grey Wolf Peak

I have been planning a trip to ski in the Mission Mts. since I first laid my eyes on them three years ago while on a climbing trip throughout the Big Sky state. At that time I had never even heard of the Mission Mts., but when I got home I started researching their back country skiing potential. 

Missions Mts- looking North from East St.Mary

The Mission Mts. begin roughly 50 miles north of Missoula and run about 40 miles north towards the southern-most part of Flathead Lake. They rise at an average of 5,000 feet from the valley floor. Mt. McDonald is the highest peak in the range, at 9820 ft.

When I moved to Whitefish, MT at the beginning of this year I had a feeling that I would be putting in an effort to ski in this range. Coming back from Idaho three weeks ago we passed St. Ignatius- the gateway to the Missions- and thoughts began to pile up for when I could make this trip happen. Texts were sent to many Boyz with temptation to ski in the wild arena. The dilemma I am having now living so far north is having all of these epic mountains to climb, but no Boyz to ski with.

My dependable partner from the North, Dan Koestler, was down and we planned on being in the the Missions for Easter weekend. When he called just three days before we were supposed to go, telling me how he was put on the schedule unexpectedly, I texted again, to no avail. I began to make new plans for my weekend off work.

Then a miracle happened. My closest in proximity and most experienced Skier Boy Friend called and said he would go. YES! Thank You Jay Welz! It was a roller coaster of emotions leading up to getting to the trailhead and even after, but while we were in the mountains it felt like we were supposed to be there. The Missions approved of our dedication to exploration.

Happy Easter! Boyz on summit cone of East St. Mary

To enter the Missions from the west side you need a Tribal Boundaries Pass. A three day pass can be obtained in St. Ignatius at the Cenex Gas station for nine bucks. From there we drove up to St. Mary Lake.  On the western edge there is a pull out with a campfire ring and a cairn marking a trail. The road was mostly melted out, but I was happy to have Truckee.

The trail head

Our main objective in the Missions was to ski the West Couloir of Grey Wolf Peak. I had read many blogs from skiing this line and each one sounded like getting there would be a challenge greatly rewarded. After finding the trail we were surprised that it continued up to the snow line and a skinner was already in. We transferred to skis and followed the skinner to where the mountains revealed themselves. Gorgeous mountains shining bright in the sun and bluebird skies.

That approach wasn't so bad. I could have packed a few more brews

Welz below point 8700 ridge

Grey Wolf Peak and it coolers

At 4 pm, we reached the ridge at 8700 ft.  5 hours and 4800 feet of climbing later, we had a look at Grey Wolf Peak and the couloir we wanted to ski the next day. We ripped skins and skied a beautiful large bowl down 1700 feet to the base of the Grey Wolf where we would set up camp. The bowl is north facing so we carved some creamy archs and wiggles, pleased with the conditions and blown away with our position! After setting up camp we climbed back to the ridge for another descent of the bowl before the sun went down for the night. We cheers'd with a few brews and gulped some chai rum then slept under a Big sky of brilliant lights.

Amazing bivy spot

 The next morning we woke to another sunny day and after a quick hot meal we began skinning towards East St. Mary Peak. Because the snowpack was in a transitional stage and we had a good freeze over night we planned to ski the South face off East St. Mary then back to the Grey Wolf coolie which faces west.

Self portrait with the SOuth East Face of East St. Mary

After two and a half hours of following the Easter bunnies tracks we were standing on top of East St. Mary (9,400) and looking North to jaw dropping peaks and faces. The line has big exposure and its above a hundred foot cliff.  We dropped in before noon, a little bit on the cautious side because of the exposure involved. The corn was perfect off the top and getting towards the cliff it changes exposure a bit and was a bit firm. I did not care, what a line! So fun to be hopping down a big face like that feeling so small and vulnerable.

DAmn thats some creamy corn

Welz dropping off the summit cone of East St. Mary

From the bottom of the bowl we booted 1000 feet back up the ridge on the hard crusted west face. In an hours time we were back up to 8700 and looking over at our next objective, which seemed like we would be timing perfectly because the coolie was still in the shade. Shit! Someone was booting up our line. They sussed us while we were climbing or skiing East St. Mary. We were in awe and didn't know what to do.

We skied down back to camp and decided that the group was either going to wait for the apron to soften up, which would give us time to high five them at the top or they were just going to ski in in hard, scary conditions. So we went up and hoped they were Canadians so we could offer them a Kokanee if we got in their way.

Changing over from skinning to cramponing we waited below some rocks at the bottom of the chute. We began to see some snow pebbles come down through the chute and then some more and felt that the group ahead was descending. Alright, exactly what we were hoping for. We high-fived the gang from Missoula and began booting up the empty coolie above.

Do you think the Easter bunny hid any eggs up here?

Towards the top of the coolie. The terrain in the back ground is point 8700, where we made 3 laps in creamy powder conditions.

After a hour of stepping in and out of the old booter we were on top of the coolie. We enjoyed our position, ate some peeps and looked down the other side of our line to see another beautiful shaded cooler below. Maybe next time? We transitioned and started down this wonderful line. On the left side of the chute there was still dry powder so we hopped down that way and in the middle we got some corn.  By the time we hit the apron it had corned up also, perfect timing for the Boyz! Another amazing line.

Thanks for the Peeps. Now lets ski this line!

Welz dropping into the West Couloir of Grey Wolf PEak

Finding some soft snow in the shade

BAck out into the sun for corn.

PAcking up camp we knew that the hardest wasn't over. To get out we needed to climb back up to point 8700, then ski down the manky southwest ridge and try to find our trail back to the truck. This all was not too bad, mostly because we had spent the past 34 hours in place most skiers don't visit. Many people look up at the Mission mountains and stress how hard it would be to get on top of those peaks, let alone ski fantastic lines. As SKier Boyz, it is our nature to act on the urges of the the unknown terrain that stands above us.

SKiing out of the Missions to finish the mission

Sore feet. This is What we DO!

Getting back to the truck are feet were sore but our minds were at ease. Popping a victory brew we cheers'd to an excellent adventure, 13,000 feet of climbing, 2 memorable lines and a bivy worthy of the effort.

-Jakeums

Falling Waters: March 30, 2013

I knew that I'd be chasing snow buffalo all day - Na$ty, P9, and the Noodler are all super fast. I wanted to go as light as possible, but the location dictated that I bring some prudent supplies: an extra puffy, a pint of water, a pack of Shot Bloks, and some pop rocks.  Lately, most ski outings have been dictated by the Noodler's schedule. His pick-up and drop-off times are firm to the minute. Today we had 7 hours door to door - not a whole lot of time, but I enjoy the limiting hours. I can hang for a half day, but I loathe to think what would happen if I got on the Noodler 14-hour express.

We were heading to Falling Waters, a drainage above the Eagle River Nature Center. Access typically falls into a grey area because of private property issues, but fortunately a mutual friend has land that abuts the park boundary.

Na$ty and P9 had put the skinner in the day before and had a zone in mind: the 6 North facing chutes on the ridge separating Falling Waters and Ram Valley. The plan was to get 2 laps. I've had 4 or 5 days total skiing in Falling Waters, so I had a pretty good idea what they were talking about.

With the skinner already in, travel was fast and I struggled in 4th place. It was mostly sunny and the powder was still fluffy. Sweat stung my eyes. Fatigue stung my legs. And the gassy nature of the pop-rocks stung my intestines. It was a good thing that I was in 4th because that pop-rock gas had me sounding like a flock of geese.

Predictably, we made awesome time and were soon looking up the 1st of the 6 chutes. Na$ty and P9 led the charge up what they considered to be the mellowest gully. The skinner went in as high as possible before swapping to a booter. The 3 buffalo swapped lead position while I managed to stay somewhat close.

Up the Yellow; Down the Blue

The plan was to use the same uptrack for both laps, so at the ridge we took a left and climbed higher to another chute.

Nearing the Ridge

Getting Ready to Drop

For at least 2 years now, the Noodler has carried an insulated skirt in his pack. After borrowing his wife's for some time, Santa finally got him his own: the Montbell Thermawrap.  Just about everyone has questioned his odd choice of gear, but I am slowly being won over based on the advantages. On the climb you sweat like crazy, but quickly freeze on a windy ridge. Long johns are too hot on the up; no base layer is too cold when just standing around. An insulted skirt solves this problem. Most insulated skirts have full-length zippers making it a pain in the ass to get on and off - especially with skis on. The Thermawrap only has one snap at the waist - super easy to get on and gain almost instantaneous relief from the wind where you need it most. Also one snap does not restrict movement like a full length zipper - important in tight couloirs. The Thermawrap also functions as a lightweight compressible emergency blanket.  Strange as it may seem, this could catch on.

P9 in the Crux

The Noodler and the Thermawrap

The low density powder was shin to knee deep on stiff wind board. The steep walls of the couloir improved visibility and the skiing was excellent. Once on the apron, this shot pulls the skier to the left and out of sight from those waiting on top. So we waited and waited until we were sure we weren't dropping in on someone.  Radios next time!

We quickly retraced the uptrack but opted to drop off the south side of the ridge directly into Ram Valley. The idea was to get better light and take a more direct route to the vehicle. By the time we were ready to drop-in, the light had gone to shit. P9 graciously volunteered to Guinea Pig the route and put some features into the featureless void of white below us. Coverage was much better than expected and the run seemed to go on forever.  Even with P9's tracks, I took it slow and finally made it to the safe zone which was only about 100' from the skinner. 

The route back to road was straight forward with boredom alternating with unexpected excitement. Down gullies, over tundra, around boulders with the occasional alder face whip for good measure. Back at the vehicle, we pulled the beer from a snow bank. Typically the Noodler is so pressed for time that he militantly forces us to chug our post-tour beverage, but our south side short cut had saved precious minutes allowing for some down time. It was a nice change of pace, but I knew the Noodler was thinking we could've gotten another half lap somewhere.

Photos from: Noodler, P9, Na$ty, goggle-earth, and maybe me.

 - U.K.

AK Update: March 23-27, 2013

I had a long weekend starting early Friday afternoon. Plans had been made and schemes had been hatched. Per usually, Mama Natura pulled a fast one, fooling even the most seasoned of weather guessers. Right up until the morning of departure, the weather guessers were confident. But our "ground truth" campaign at Hatcher Pass reveled the horrible truth. The sneak-attack blizzard rendered the road impassable. Visibility ranged from end-of-hood to 50 yards. The wind was gusting and 4' drifts occupied the road right next to bare black top.

The forecast was wrong, the now-cast was wrong, but at 2 PM the updated hind-cast was right on! The storm continued through the weekend into Monday. 2'+ at Hatcher and it was the biggest dump of the year for Anchorage.

By Monday it was winding down, so I made my way South to check out the relative safety of Dog Shit Ridge (aka Tincan). The deep pillowly tree lines are excellent for storm skiing. The trees of Tincan are one of the easier places to manage terrain at Turnagain Pass.  The top 6" of storm snow was reactive on steep rollovers, but the skiing was fantastic: steep and deep with the trees trumping the flat light.

Tuesday was the blue after the storm. Below zero temps greeted the morning commuters. The mountains above Anchorage were the whitest they have been all year. In the Front Range wind is much more important than snowfall when building base. Protected bowls will be 10' deep while faces will only hold snow until the next wind event. The weekend storm brought little wind thus tempting skiers onto the poorly covered faces.

Our ski posse generally gets off work at 3PM thus giving us a huge advantage over the 9-5 crowd. I've come to expect empty trail heads and untracked mountains. Tuesday was no different. The Noodler and J put in the skinner. S was 3rd, and I struggled to keep up. The sirens were calling us to the faces hoping to dash our skis against the rocks, but we resisted. We opted for a great bowl just west of the summit Mountain Harp. Ridge temps were still in the low single digits late into the afternoon, but the powder was sublime and the early evening sun was magical.

Mountain Harp - West Harp Bowl on the left
(April 2011)

By Wednesday, the siren call was too much to resist: Mountain Harp from the top was the objective. The summit gullies have a narrow "good coverage" zone. Rocks would be lurking just below the surface hoping to dash our skis, but the call could not be ignored. That is, unless, you inadvertently left your skins at home. The sirens were quickly drowned out by a string of curse words. 

Team 3PM set the skinner, while I decided to put in a booter rather than mope around. The booting was less painful than expected.  I was well behind, but my goal was "90% Gully."  This shot typically has much better coverage than the summit shots. 

Mountain Harp is best approach via the long curving ridge that starts out heading SE and finishes with a NE push. The ridge is typically wind blasted and booting isn't really all that worse the skinning.  Even if you do remember your skins, expect to boot about 1/3 of the wind swept ridge.

About halfway up the ridge, the winds became quite noticeable. The skinner set by Team 3PM just 20 minutes prior was erased in a few spots. It had obtained the "etch-a-sketch" reset that Romney so desperately needed.  At the 90% Gully, the wind was really ripping and I knew Team 3PM would be dropping in soon. I kept peeking towards the summit while I prepared to ski.

Then it ripped.  It started slowly but quickly accelerated.  The powder cloud was billowing.  It started from a single point but completely entrained all the new snow from both summit gullies. Shit.

I watched closely for signs of skiers as the slide grew, roared, and subsided. I didn't see anyone. I quickly finished my transition so I'd be ready to boot to the summit or traverse into the debris. I was constantly scanning the path and the summit, but I still didn't see anyone. Scenarios raced through my mind.  Are they OK?  Is someone hurt in the rocks near the summit?  Did I miss someone in the slide?

I knew the top of 90% Gully would be as sensitive as the summit gullies. I was still on the wind blasted ridge ready to boot or ski, but I needed a better idea of what was going on in the 90% in case I had to drop in. I approached a dumpster-sized boulder on the ridge that separated the wind scoured from the wind loaded.  While still safely behind the boulder, the wind lip sympathetically let loose and quickly propagated higher up the wind loaded side of the ridge. I half expected that to happen and was glad with the conservative approach. 

The slope below me was now much safer than it was 5 minutes prior, but I still wasn't psyched to ski it.  Finally a skier emerged off the of the summit casually skiing the debris. There was no rush and he was linking good turns and occasionally stopping to examine the snow.  When he got out onto the untouched snow and started wiggling, I knew they were alright. 

I busied myself knocking cornice chunks down the 90% and was gaining more confidence in the gully. I got the attention on Skier #1 who was in the "safer" zone below and I dropped in. The debris was soft and made for good turns, but it is always scary when the tongue of debris ends and you're plowing the virgin snow. I kept my speed up and was ready for a high speed traverse into the shark soup if necessary.  The angled eased and the turns got quite good.



Summit Gullies - Middle
90% Gully - Right

MB was skier 1 and he filled me in on what happen on top. Team 3PM was concerned about the wind and contemplated walking down the ridge. But there were small cornices and slope cuts that could be tested safely. Check out the write-up from one of the Summiters. Click here.

Everyone descended safely to the rendezvous.  There were a lot of sharks lurking off the summit gullies.  MB and B opted for a 2nd lap, but the Noodler, J, and I had to head back to A-Rage.  We enjoyed the low-angle, stress-free turns on the exit. At the car, we dug the 22-ounce beer out of the snowbank, blasted it back, and made plans for tomorrow. 

Incident write-up is from the observations section of the new Anchorage Avalanche Center (AAC)

http://www.anchorageavalanchecenter.org/

 - U.K.



Pioneer Mts and Yurt

I love taking trips and adventuring into new mountain ranges. Its just that in the winters its easy to get wrapped up in your local skiing arenas. You are familiar with the weather and snowpack, you like to have dry socks and boot liners and its expensive to rent backcountry yurts and huts. This past week Gae and I met our Salt Lake Serious friends in the Pioneer Mts., just north of Hailey, ID. We celebrated with two buddies who turned 30, skied some peaks, harvested some corn, inducted a new member and made delicious and nutritious meals with IPAs and whiskey. 

Skiing on Mt Stanton to the beautiful Lake MacDonald in GNP
I don't want to leave!

When we arrived to meet the team at Shortys Diner, the stoke was as high as the atmospheric pressure outside. Sun Valley hadn't received any new snow on top of their below average base in a couple weeks and it was starting to look more like late Spring than Late Winter. 

We met our guide Ed, from Sun Valley Trekking at the Junction of East Fork and the Highway. He showed up with a sled to tow in our packs and food, it costs an extra 50 bucks for this service and its totally worth it. Gae and I also brought our snow machine, Sleddy, down so we packed heavy and very disorganized. This was obvious when Salt Lake Serious began placing shopping bags into Ed's sled and each of their packs were over 100 pounds. If Kevin and Chris didn't climb the North Face of Cobb I would be razzing them more, but they did use some of the hardware that was hauled in. I do believe a case of beer would have been more useful than most of the gear not used.  

Gaelen reaching the Pioneer Yurt after 5 mlles of skinning. Home Sweet Home!

Knowing that it was going to be a heavy haul for Sleddy, we didn't double and Gae walked in with the Serious crew. After three miles, Sleddy was tired and over heated on the trail. Ed came back for our second load of gear. I replaced the spark plugs, my extent of mechanics and she revved back up and I met Ed and our heap of food and beverages one mile below the Yurt.  

Because of restrictions you are only allowed to snowmobile to within one mile of the Yurt this time of year. The sun was Hot at this point and my buffalo tendencies had me maxing a sled load by ski of about 150 lbs up the last mile and 1000 foot vert climb to the Pioneer Yurt. What a bitching idea. 3/4 of the way up I dumped a food box and continued. 

The Yurt is beautiful. Its 24 ft. in diameter with a two burner stove for cooking and a wood stove for heating and drying. It is stocked with plenty of kitchen supplies, games and maps/ books to look at and plan from. It sleeps 10 comfortably in bunk beds, we had 9 in our group. There is also a Sauna located next to the Yurt with plenty of wood to be used. Entering the Yurt I was pleased to be left some H2o in a kettle that I guzzled down and headed back out to get another load of supplies. The rest of the team was on the final stretch when I was skiing down. They each asked me how much farther and I reassured them they were close. Kevin met me for the final tow and we were moved in for four nights! 

Some of the food we brought, 84 eggs not included.
Ed told us we brought more food than any other group that year

We settled in and got some beta from Ed. It looked like we were in for some big lines in corn conditions with a low snow pack. It quickly became five p.m. and we headed out to get some skiing in before dinner was made. We chose ELk Lips, a run directly behind the Yurt. It was a 1,200 foot climb that took about a hour to ascend. The scenery was breath taking and we were all excited to be there with each other playing in the mountains again, Happy 30th birthday Mark!

BOYZ Life is the Good Life!

On our way up to Elk Lips with the Yurt below.
Mt Hyndman on left and Mt Cobb on right

Beers were cracked back at the Yurt and DInner was cooked by the birthday boy. We began talking about the next days objective because they were all looming above us. Why not begin with the tallest in the range? Mt Hyndman, 12,008 ft in elevation. It was going to be sunny, so we planned for a early rise to ski the 1,500 foot gullies off the summit facing south to south east. 

Hyndman Peak and its South facing chutes
The Dorsal Fin in the the background on DUncan Ridge

We left the Yurt by 7 a.m. and started to the saddle between Old and New Hyndman until we were directly below the chutes. We climbed and descended Hyndmans S face with a group of six. Three Gmitros, including their Dad, Art and myself, Cambell and MArk. The climb took way longer than imagined. The booting sucked and because we wanted to stay off the face we were breaking through most of the time between rocks and snow. Kevin tested out his new ski crampons and skinned the entire 38 degree face, impressive. 

Chris after sending a boulder problem during the climb, so Serious

It was sunny but some clouds and a breeze kept the top of the line from corning up. We waited and inducted Mark into Skier Boyz, this is what we do! Then some clouds began to form around the sun and figured it wouldn't get any better so we dropped in. It was a little firm on the top but we managed to harvest some corn for about 3/4 of the run down. 

Mark shredding Hyndman after his induction to Skier Boyz

he had tears in his eyes when he was quoted

"best day of my life"

After a little lunch back at the Yurt we motivated, went back out and skinned through some deep mank to get to the top of Little Duncan for an afternoon corn run.

Afternoon Corn Harvest in Little Duncan Bowl

Next Day, Mt. Cobb of course, the ranges 2nd highest summit, 11,800 ft. It has a beautiful plumb couloir facing south splitting the summit cone. From below it was hard to tell if the line was even filled in enough to make it worth it. Because of its setting and our eager attitude we gave it a climb. 

Because of the corn delay we left the Yurt much later in the morning. Chris and Kevin went for the ascent up the steep North Face (5.7+) while the sane portion of the group climbed up the fun west ridge (class 4). This climb was as difficult and longer than Hyndmans S face and our group became scattered on the mountain. After the initial climb Gae decided to ride down and I caught up to Cambell and Mark almost on the ridge proper. It was a classic climb. We walked on a summer trail for a bit then went right for the rocks, climbing up some great granite, chock full of hand jams and jugs. It was a magical climb in a great position in the mountains. 

A new Skier Boy in his element
Stoic is an understatement

A future SKier Boy also loving life!
Mt. Cobb West Ridge

We got off the ridge and descended a sneaker chute into the S chute proper, then finished the climb by booting up the final 500 feet to the summit. The snow in the chute felt solid and booting up was easy. As we figured, there was not much snow near the top, but we hacked our way from the summit with skis on till a twenty foot rock section blocked our complete free descent.

Mark navigating the low snow in the upper chute.
I was happy to see him not try to split ski down this line.

From here the couloir was amazing. Best I have skied all season! Its a beautiful line looking straight down 3,500 feet to the valley floor. After the initial chute we followed gullies all the way down to below the Yurt. It was a manky skin back to our yurt, but well worth the effort to send such an aesthetic ski line.

Oh yeah! Dragging the Knuckles

Cambell Scott negotiating the choke with style

 After sending the North Face route, team Buzz Kill was seen descending from the summit down the chute at about 7 p.m. Chris avoided being caught in a big wet avalanche he set off in the bottom of the run. We cracked beers and ate a 14 veggie curry dish and planned on skiing as a group the next day, at least for one run.

The Yurt and its amenities

Kevins stuffed peppers, Yum!

This was fun, but next year lets go to Montana!
- Kid Bufo Hucks with whippet Jakems

On our final day we broke up once again, choosing on harvesting corn in various chutes. We did All meet up on top of the Peanut, a line we had been looking at for days for a final lap on some firm snow. At night Kevin made stuffed peppers, we finished the booze and toasted for Chris's birthday and a great trip! 

The Pioneer Yurt is a special place for mountain connoisseurs. There is plenty of powder skiing if you have those conditions and big mountains of course.